The Unforeseen Wedding of Sherlock Holmes
by AlexDayLover
Summary: Sherlock's getting married, and you'll never guess who to! Or maybe you will. I don't know. It's in the character descriptions.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone, this is a new story from Blair about the wedding of Sherlock Holmes, uploaded by me Heather2910! Enjoy **

It was an odd affair, to say the least.

John almost didn't believe it. He pinched himself for the fortieth time that week. It couldn't truly be happening. Any minute now Sherlock would come to his senses and call the whole thing off.

The detective was currently reading a book while sipping a cup of tea. John stared at him, not even bothering to hide it.

Sherlock looked up. "Not that I'm not used to stares, John, but this is going a bit over the top, isn't it? People get married all the time."

"People who aren't you!" John protested. "You told me you were married to your work! How did THIS happen?"

The detective sighed. "You were there for the whole thing, John. The, what would you call it, proposal. You saw how it happened. What is the actual question?"

John shook his head. "Nevermind. I guess there's no talking you out of this."

"You've already tried. Several times." Sherlock said, eyes on his book.

"You're really planning on carrying through."

"Yes."

"You're getting hitched. Tying the knot. Married."

"Yes."

"To... to..."

"YES, John, YES! I AM doing this!" Sherlock yelled, a bit exasperated. John held up his hands.

"Okay, okay. Alright, you are. I'll just have to deal with it. The strange turn of events where you get married before me. The even stranger event where you actually get married. Okay." He babbled. Sherlock glanced at him.

"I think you should stop talking and go buy milk now."

"Right." John didn't argue. He grabbed his shoes and wallet and headed for the nearest Tesco's.

As he walked, he tried to collect his thoughts and come to terms with the fact that his sociopathic flatmate was deeming it wise to get married.

It was a dark and stormy night...

Actually, scratch that. It was a pretty cheerful day, to be honest. Sherlock and John were both working on their laptops at 221B, John updating his blog and Sherlock researching breeds of poisonous sea urchins.

There was a knock at the door. "John, go let Lestrade in." Sherlock said. John got up and went downstairs, where he wasn't even surprised to see the Detective Inspector at their door.

"Got one for Sherlock. Think he'll like it." Lestrade told John. John showed him in.

"He's in a bit of a mood today, though." John cautioned the man. Lestrade nodded.

"Oi, Holmes. Got a case. Interested?" He called. Sherlock made a gesture indicating Lestrade should continue.

Lestrade obliged. "The Crown Jewels were taken again. The thing is, they don't know how. The videotapes literally show that they were there one second, gone the next. Nobody knows how it happened. The case is all sealed up, no alarms were sounded, no guards were injured. They've just vanished into thin air."

Sherlock listened intently. Staring at Lestrade silently, he closed his laptop.

"Any ideas?" Pressured Lestrade when minutes had gone by without a word.

"Oh yes, twelve. Seven highly improbable, two probably impossible. I'll need to see the tapes." He got up and snatched his coat and scarf. "Come along, John, Lestrade."

When they had reached the site, Sherlock immediately went to examine the room for prints. Finding none, he then searched for any sort of clue.

On top of the glass case he felt something under the metal. A very fine layer was pushed upwards.

"I need a crowbar." He told Lestrade.

"Why?" The man asked. John looked at him.

"Just get him the damn crowbar."

Once Sherlock had pried the metal off the top he came up with a scrap of paper. On it was a yellow smiley face and a small rubbing of some blocked letters.

"John. It's him again. We have to get to the graveyard." Sherlock tossed the crowbar aside, striding out into the sunlight.

"Wait, what about the bloody jewels?" Lestrade cried after him. "Sherlock, this is important!"

"The jewels are safe and you'll have them tomorrow by noon at the latest, you have my guarantee. Now, I have to go and it's no cops allowed, so farewell." Sherlock took off running.

Lestrade looked helplessly at John, who rubbed his forehead. "Well, we know we can trust him, at least. Just... I don't know. Give him time. I have to catch up with him." And he started running after Sherlock.

He caught up to his friend just as Sherlock was hailing a taxi. "Forrester Cemetery and hurry." He told the cabbie. On the way there, John asked, "So what was on that paper and why are we going to the cemetery?"

"Moriarty left me a message." Sherlock said. "There was a charcoal rubbing of a headstone from the cemetery. Moriarty took the jewels and is waiting for me up there."

"How did he get them?" John asked, shocked.

"My bet is that he threatened some guard into playing an earlier tape over the actual one, so that Jim could go in and do whatever he liked as long as the picture looked the same, minus the jewels." Sherlock explained. John nodded.

"Ah." They arrived at the cemetery. Sherlock paid the cabbie and then scrambled out of the cab leaving John to follow.

"Moriarty! I'm here! Return the jewels!" Sherlock called to the cemetery.

Chuckling could be heard. Neither John nor Sherlock could tell in what direction. Sherlock ran up and down the grass, restless.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" He yelled. "Show yourself!"

John stood by nervously, awaiting the inevitable shock.

A figure stepped out from behind a tomb. Jim smiled brightly, wearing a crown and robe and carrying a jewel-encrusted cane.

"Sherlock! How glad you could make it!" He walked, unafraid, up to the detective. "I've got something to show you."

"I just want the Crown Jewels, Jim." Sherlock growled. Jim laughed.

"That's what I want to show you. Come on now, you can bring your dog if you want. It'll be just be the three of us, I swear. The snipers have the day off." He grabbed Sherlock's hand and pulled him in the direction of the tomb. Sherlock hesitantly went, but gestured for John to come as well. The army doctor followed warily, hand on his gun.

Jim pointed with the cane to behind the tomb, where the jewels were lying on a tarp. They were arranged to spell out two words. John stopped dead when he read the message.

"Sherlock, are you seeing this?"

"Obviously, I have eyes." Sherlock looked at the message, then at Jim, who was still wearing his brilliant smile. The criminal let go of Sherlock and stood with his hands behind his back, bouncing on his heels.

On the ground were the words "Marry Me?" in sparkling gems.

"So? Whatcha say, Sherly?" Jim prodded.

"No, of course!" John burst! "You- you're insane! Sherlock, just let's get the jewels and go."

Sherlock stared at Jim, pondering. "He was talking to me, John."

John paused. "Sherlock? You can't seriously be considering..."

The two geniuses were locked eye to eye. Sherlock thought, not making a sound, and Jim grinned that mad smile that made John want to throttle him. He settled for anxiously tapping his hand on his leg, waiting for Sherlock to come to his senses and decline.

Eventually, Sherlock inclined his head slightly. Jim took that as a cue and got down on one knee, taking Sherlock's hand.

"Sherlock Holmes, will you do me the honor and become my husband?" He asked.

Sherlock nodded. "When you put it so eloquently, how could I refuse?"

Jim got up and embraced Sherlock, who awkwardly hugged back after a moment's pause.

John screamed, tugging his hair! "What the bloody hell! Sherlock, you didn't! You didn't! WHY, damnit, WHY would you say that?!"

Sherlock and Jim pulled apart. "I'll see you later, love." Jim winked. "I'll be sure and keep in touch. Jewels are yours. But this one is specially made." As he backed up, he tossed Sherlock a ring. Sherlock threw his hands up to catch it and when Jim saw it was safely in his grip, he blew a kiss and escaped through the graves, shedding crown and robe.

Sherlock slipped the ring on. It was silver, with some engravings that John thought looked Latin. A large diamond rested on top. "John, grab the jewels. Lestrade will want them." He strode off towards the road, intent on catching a cab.

John stood helplessly frozen, staring disbelievingly at his friend's retreating back.

"...huh?" He managed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi everybody! This is the author this time, Blair. Lately I've had trouble uploading but I got a new laptop so it should be fine from now on. (?) I'd like to thank my lovely friend Heather2910 for helping me out and also remind you all to leave reviews, because I love reading your feedback. Anyways. Here's the second chapter. DFTBA!**

John shook his head as he walked to Tesco's. He wasn't even sure that they were out of milk. It was just a reason to get out of the flat and clear his head.

That day was still fresh in his mind after a week. He didn't know why Sherlock had done it. He didn't know that he wanted to. But God, he wanted to understand what went on in the mind of Sherlock Holmes that he would marry a man who had sworn to kill him. A man! A deadly enemy! There was no reason at all to do that!

So caught up in his thoughts he only just noticed the black car driving next to him when it pulled over and honked. He jumped slightly, then started backing up warily.

The door opened and Not-Anthea leaned out. "Honestly, John, there's no use in it. Just come on!"

John sighed. He really did hate being kidnapped. Sherlock wouldn't like this, either. He hated his brother. But he went ahead and got in the car, believing Mycroft was his destination.

After the meeting with Irene, one would think John had learned a lesson of some sorts, but ah well.

The car pealed away. John looked at the girl next to him, typing on her Blackberry.

"Er, what's your name, then?" He asked.

She glanced up, giving the question thought. "Um, Melody."

"Right. Will you never tell me your real name?" He prompted her. She glanced up again and smiled a bit sympathetically.

"No."

"Right."

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence.

When John felt the vehicle come to a stop, he pushed open the door and stepped out. Once he had closed it, the car went into reverse and backed up several meters, turning a corner. John saw why when he noticed who was sitting at the table.

Jim Moriarty waved cheerfully at him, gesturing for him to take a seat.

John felt for his gun, but, of course, he had none. He had only gone out to buy milk. Reluctantly, he went over and perched on a chair, staring hard at Moriarty.

The criminal smiled at him. "Hello, John. I have to say, it was quite easy getting to you. You're very trusting. I hope you can extend that trust to me, eventually."

"What in god's name would make me trust you?" John asked, straightfaced.

"Well, I am marrying your best friend." Jim pointed out.

"Yes, but why?!" John burst. "He won't talk about it and I see no reason to believe it was because you two love each other or anything, so why?"

Jim looked at him with pity. "Oh, poor little soldier. He just doesn't have the brains for something like this."

"You know full well that not everyone is a genius like you two, so just explain, damnit!" John rose, glaring at Moriarty.

The other man grinned. "Oh, alright. I see why Sherlock likes you, you are very loyal. You and my Sebastian should meet, I think you would find each other interesting. But on to the explanation, I suppose." He folded his hands and leaned in. "You said that you saw no love between us. You were wrong there. I admired Sherlock from the beginning. It was... comforting to know that there was another person like me out there. He helped my brother on a case, you see. My brother was a Colonel. When I visited him he told me all about the great Sherlock Holmes, a genius but so misunderstood. Called a freak. Loved by no one. Just like a certain relative he knew. Well, I knew I had to look in to it. I observed Sherlock for a while and I saw how clever he was, and a thought occurred to me. I had been so bored, you see, so terribly bored, and I decided to play a game. Two players, and so many pawns to move around and knock off until I got to the other player. And then I did get to him. Sherlock. I met him, up close, and heard him speak, and I fell in love. I didn't realize this at first, it was just playing a game. But after several cases were started and finished and we had spoken several times, I figured it out. And Sherlock feels something akin to love, I should think. Maybe not so strong yet, maybe not love at all. But he does admire me, my talents, and he's grateful that he's not alone in the world. Of course he likes to have someone to look clever and explain things to, and that's where you fit in. I would never deny him you, just like he would never deny me Sebastian."

He sat back and looked at John solemnly. John was a bit astounded at this story, speechless, actually. He sat and stared dumbly at Jim, who nodded to himself.

"You might ask, if Sherlock doesn't love me yet, why did he agree to marry me? We didn't speak out loud because we didn't need to, but for your benefit I will tell you. I agreed to stop causing mischief and chaos around London if he married me. He knew I would uphold this promise because I would have him there to stop me, from being bored and from falling into temptation. I also agreed to help him on cases if he'd like, and to dismantle my web of snipers and employees around the world. Of course, this is too good for him to pass up, whatever the reason, and he also knew I would keep my end of the bargain because he knew I loved him. And he knows that he'll love me back eventually. It's inevitable. I understand him much better than anyone, even you, hard as you try, could even hope to." He sighed and looked down, then back up at John with a lazy grin. "It'll be good for us. And of course you're invited to the wedding."

John said nothing, only contemplated. As he stared silently at his hands, Jim whistled. The car came back around the corner.

"They'll take you back to 221B." He told John. "Also, they picked up milk for you. Go on now."

"Thanks." John nodded and started walking back to the car. He got about half way when he stopped and turned around.

"Jim!" He called. Jim glanced up.

John smiled at him. "Welcome to the family." Then he got in the car and the driver sped off.


	3. Chapter 3

After Anthea/Melody had dropped him off at 221B, John reluctantly opened the door and hung up his coat. As he walked up the stairs, he wondered how Sherlock would react to him being sort-of abducted by Jim.

He walked into the main room. Sherlock was stretched out on the couch, typing on his laptop. He looked up when John came in.

"Oh, been talking to Jim, have you? What did he have to say?" He asked.

"Oh, not much." John figured he should've known Sherlock would be able to tell. "We just had a chat."

Sherlock regarded his state for a minute, then said, "He told you why he proposed and why I accepted."

"...Yeah." John grinned sheepishly at his friend. "I understand now."

"I'm sure you do." Sherlock closed his laptop and set it on the table. "And I want to ask you something."

"Okay...?" John sat down in his chair first as his leg was causing him some trouble.

"Will you be my best man?" Sherlock asked.

John blinked. "Me? Not... Mycroft, or, or, or Lestrade?"

"John, you're my best, and only, friend. Of course you." Sherlock smiled at him, a genuine smile, but there was an apprehensive look behind it, as if he was afraid John would say no.

"Of course I will, Sherlock." John told him. "I'll have to rent a tux, I guess."

"No need. I bought you one, and a tie to match. The color scheme is red." Sherlock stood and loped past John into the kitchen. "Want some tea?"

"Yeah, thanks. Wait, it's not dosed, is it?" John asked suspiciously.

"Of course not, don't be stupid." Sherlock winked.

"Oh yes, I'm the stupid one." John picked up the day's newspaper. "Red? Why red?"

Sherlock didn't answer. John looked up. "Sherlock? Why red?"

The detective, to John's amazement, appeared to be blushing. He coughed and then mumbled, "Jim said purple would be an unfair advantage on my side."

"Oh, for christ's..." John chuckled. "And so it begins."

"And so what begins?" Sherlock asked, indignant.

"The stupid, love-struck quips and compliments. What did you say? Hmm?" John taunted. ""Oh, stop it, you."?"

Sherlock glowered. "I could revoke my offer to let you be best man."

"Except you won't." John called his bluff. "Now come on, really. What did you tell him? "Oh, Jim, red suits your complexion perfectly! Oh, Jim, I think we should go to Paris for our honeymoon! Oh, Jim, I have a horrible bruise on my arse, please will you fix it for me?""

Sherlock tried to look threatening, but he was laughing too hard. "I hate you, John."

"Well? Which one was it?" John called. "Come on, I know you said SOMETHING sappy."

"Here's your tea, Jumper-Boy." Sherlock set the mug down in front of him, still trying to conceal his giggling, then grabbed his laptop and stomped off to his room. John sipped the tea, a secret smile of fondness directed at his retreating head.

John and Sherlock had just gotten back from a trip to the store. Sherlock was grumbling about how BORING that had been and John laughing about how the detective had called the affair between the cashier and the manager, leading to a half-price discount. That laughter died, however, when they walked into the flat to discover Mycroft sitting comfortably on the sofa.

"Congratulations, dear brother." He said, a frown on his face and not sounding at all congratulatory. "As glad as I am to see you getting married, however, this nonsense must stop at once. You are not marrying a serial killer."

Sherlock huffed, taking off his scarf. "And this is why I neglected to tell you. You can't stop me, Mycroft. Don't make me act like a spoiled teenager and run away to elope. It's in the interest of London that I do this."

"Oh, of course it is." Mycroft stood up, leaning on his umbrella. "And how so?"

"Never you mind." Sherlock glared at his brother. "I'm going to my room to find whatever bugs you've undoubtedly put there." He stomped off, reminding John of a four year old being told he can't have a certain stuffed toy.

Mycroft sighed, then turned his gaze on John. "You see why I worry? If I don't constantly watch over him, he does something stupid like get engaged to a mass murderer. Surely you'll talk him out of this?"

"Sorry, Mycroft. I've tried." John shook his head. "And you know what, it's Sherlock's life, he can do what he wants. He's not an addict anymore, far as I can tell, and I'm making sure he's taking care of himself."

Mycroft humphed. "He mentioned it was in London's interest that he marries this... man?"

"Oh, Jim just promised that he would stop committing murder and start solving crimes with Sherlock. You know, nothing big." And with that, John grabbed his newspaper off the table and breezed past Mycroft without another glance.

**Remember to review! DFTBA!**


	4. Chapter 4

"What day is the wedding, anyway? You've never actually told me." John asked Sherlock the next day.

"Tomorrow." Was the response.

John choked on his biscuit. "Tomorrow?! Why didn't you tell me sooner? When? Where? I don't have my suit! We didn't have a stag party!"

Sherlock laughed at John's reaction. "Calm down, John. You do have your suit, I hung it on your door. It's at one o'clock at the cemetery Jim proposed in. And why on earth would I want a stag party?"

"You're right, you're right." John breathed slowly. "Of course. Wait... you ordered me a suit? You know my measurements?"

Sherlock just gave him the I-Am-A-Detective-John-Of-Course-I-Know-That look. John waved a hand. "Okay, forgive me. You've never had any trouble before."

"Right. So you'll put that on and look charming. Oh, and you'll dance." Sherlock grinned cheekily. John groaned.

"Dance? With who?"

"As far as I understand, Sebastian Moran." Sherlock smirked at John's reaction.

"I've got nothing against it, Sherlock, you know that. But if you would listen to me, I'm not actually gay!' John grit his teeth.

"Of course not." Sherlock raised his hands. "Neither is Sebastian. But it's the accepted procedure that the best man and the maid of honor dance together. In this scenario, you are the maid of honor."

"That makes you the bride?" John snickered. Sherlock glowered.

"I was the one proposed to. I am not the bride. It was a scenario set up for your benefit."

"Whatever you say, darling." John teased. "Will you wear a white dress and carry a bouquet?"

"Shut up." Sherlock glared harder. "I can replace that suit with a mini dress and you will wear it if I so desire."

"And why would I do that?" John asked, still snickering.

"Because it's my wedding day!" Sherlock feigned surprise. "That's what friends do!"

John sobered, struggling. "Got me there, Sherlock. So what will you wear?"

"Westwood, of course." Sherlock smiled at John and left for his room.

"Your preparations are made?"

"Yes."

"The decorations are perfect?"

"Nothing less."

"You have all your suits and watches and shoes ready?"

"Of course!"

"All the guests have RSVP'd?"

"What guests?"

John stared at Sherlock. "What guests? You invited people, didn't you?"

"Lestrade, Molly and Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said. "Angelo's providing snacks. There won't be a reception so we didn't bother inviting many people. Mycroft wasn't invited but he'll undoubtedly stop by."

John relaxed. "Oh. Well, that makes sense. Who did Jim invite?" It still felt weird referring to Moriarty as Jim in suck context as this.

"A few of his employees and his and Sebastian's landlady." Sherlock answered.

John nodded. "Alright then. Tomorrow's the big day!"

"I am aware of that, John." Sherlock stood up.

"Oh, by the way, you got post." John picked up a letter from the coffee table and handed it to his flatmate. Sherlock took it. "Who's Isabella Hoecherl?"

"Just a woman from America." Sherlock ripped open the letter and read it. "She wishes me best of luck and apologizes for not being able to attend my wedding."

"How does she know about it?" John asked.

"Suppose Jim told her." Sherlock said.

"Right. Well, better get some rest." John stood up and yawned. "Good night, Sherlock."

"Hmm? Oh yes, good night." Sherlock looked down at the letter again.

Dear Sherlock,

I'm quite surprised at the announcement, and more than a little jealous of Moriarty. Still, I am so happy for you! Thank you for the invitation, but you know I cannot return to London, part of my curse of being an American in the WPP, but know that I congratulate you wholeheartedly and wish you the best of luck.

If you're ever in New York, let's have dinner.

IH

**Oh man you guys, the next chapter is the last one! I hope you like it and this one and remember to leave your reviews!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Ohgodohgodohgod." John whispered to himself. It was happening, actually happening. They were in the cemetery, the entire ensemble, under a vine-covered arch watching as Sherlock and Jim were married.

Jim and Sherlock were both wearing Vivienne Westwood suits, Jim's was black and Sherlock's was grey-not-quite-white, which made John smirk slightly at Sherlock's refusal to be a "bride." Jim was wearing his skull tie and Sherlock, a patterned red one. John's suit was black with red lining, his shirt was red, as was his tie. Looking across the way, he saw who he assumed to be Sebastian Moran in a shocking crimson suit, the opposite of John, with black tie, shirt, and shoes. The man stood tall, blonde and rugged, obviously military. John felt a sort of kinship with the man as soon as he saw the chain of dog tags peeking out from under his shirt, matching John's own.

Sebastian caught his eye as the priest was speaking. Giving a slight nod, he looked over at the two grooms and grinned, as if to say, "Who would have thought?" John smiled at that, then turned sober as the "I do." part came.

In the audience, Lestrade was trying to make sense of it all. He remembered Moriarty as the man who stole the Crown Jewels and somehow got off charge, so he wasn't really in favor of this. In fact, he had only received a text saying, "Come to my wedding. -SH" with an address, date, and time. He had no idea what to expect. He supposed Sherlock knew what he was doing, but he planned to interrogate him after the wedding. Gah... weddings. They were certainly not his division.

Mrs. Hudson was having a lovely time. She had made a new friend, Mrs. Burns, who was the landlady of Sebastian and Jim. They had chatted before the ceremony and found they had much in common, including commissioning a consultant to ensure their respective husbands' deaths.

Molly was sitting, bewildered, clutching tightly to Lestrade's arm. She was a bit tearful, weddings always made her cry, but between her gay ex boyfriend and the man she had secretly fancied for years, getting married, she was struggling to contain the flood. She was happy for them, of course she was, she just predicted a long night of sobbing at home, clutching her cat, Toby, to her chest and watching reruns of House MD.

Jim's invites, two of his other employees, were watching as well. One of them, Julie, was struggling not to draw her gun and start firing. Weddings always made her twitchy, but as it was her boss getting married, she restrained herself. It didn't help that she had had a thing for Jim awhile back. Those feelings were annoyingly resurfacing now, and she planned on having rebound sex with her current boyfriend. She glared at her colleague beside her, George Wright.

Wright was sniffing into a hanky. It was just so beautiful! The priest, the lovestruck groom and blushing... groom, the ceremonial rings, the flower girl in a cute red and black dress, oh, it made him want to cry! He held Julie's hand and excitedly tugged it. She turned her head, giving him a death glare. He didn't mind. She was just jealous that he knew how to hotwire a plane and she did not. Also, she might be planning the best way to murder him. He quickly let go of her hand.

The flower girl was actually Mrs. Burns's granddaughter, Angel. She wasn't too happy about having to wear an itchy dress for so long, but Uncle Wright had promised her a piggyback ride, and what six-year-old could refuse that?

Angelo, sitting near the confectioneries and other provided foods, fiddled with the stereo. The music for the dance afterwards had to be loud. He looked up at the ceremony and watched for the special part, feeling proud of Sherlock.

Wright grabbed Julie's shoulder. "Shh! They're saying it!" Julie knocked his hand away.

Indeed, Jim was just uttering the words "I do," solemnly and slow, glancing up at his soon-to-be husband.

"And do you, Sherlock Holmes, take this man to be your LAWFUL, wedded husband?" The priest asked, obviously familiar with Moriarty and his ways.

Sherlock grinned. "I do."

John squeezed his eyes tight, then reopened them, the closest thing to a facepalm he could do while standing before a crowd. Then he chuckled to himself, happy for Sherlock.

The priest looked at Sherlock for a second, as if silently pondering why in God's name the detective would want to do this, then said, "I now pronounce you man and husband. You may kiss your groom."

Sebastian held back a snicker as Jim flung his arms around Sherlock's neck, drawing the taller man down and engaging him in a heated battle of tongues. At this point, John lost his inner struggle, and did facepalm, grinning at the display and giving Sherlock an affectionate shake of the head.

Molly and Wright averted their eyes out of courtesy, Lestrade and Julie couldn't bear to watch, and Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Burns gave each other silent congratulatory looks.

Once Sherlock and Jim had finished... snogging, (It looked more like sucking the saliva out of each other's mouths, to be honest,) the priest closed the book with a snap and left. The guests all stood, intent on mingling, (all except Julie, who tried to escape only to be grabbed by Wright and forced to stay,) and Sebastian and Jim congratulated their respective best friends. The two in question were joined at the hand.

"So I guess you did fall in love, then, judging by that kiss." John teased Sherlock, lightly punching his shoulder. "Good for you, you wanker."

Sherlock grinned widely. "Quicker than I thought, actually. Thank you, John." He gave the man a one-armed hug. "I saw that facepalm, you know."

Next to him, Sebastian was trying not to giggle at his boss's euphoric look.

"So... was it what you expected, boss?" He asked, knowing exactly what Jim's response would be.

"Shut up, Sebbie, and congratulate me." Jim didn't lose his expression.

"Congrats, Jim." Sebastian said honestly. "I'm glad you found somebody." He embraced Jim, a great bear hug. Pulling off a few seconds later, he laughed. "No more murders for you!"

"You mean no more innocent murders." Jim corrected him. "Maybe they'll let me shoot the guilty ones who got away free."

"God, I hope so." Sebastian said. "You won't be bored."

"I'll never be bored." Jim told him. "I've got Sherlock."

The man in question, overhearing, leaned over and pecked Jim's cheek. "That you do, love." Jim giggled.

Sebastian and John exchanged looks, clearly intent on backing away and leaving the happy couple to their own PDA's. As they were slowly taking steps in the opposite direction, Sherlock looked up.

"Hey, you two. You owe us a dance."

John groaned. Sebastian, obviously having been briefed on this requirement by Jim, sighed. "Really, Jim?"

"Go on, then." Jim grinned evilly. "Everybody, grab a partner!"

Angelo started up the music, which was "Another One Bites The Dust," causing several smiles. Wright snatched Molly, who looked surprised but quickly became infatuated with the sweet man. Mrs. Burns winked at Mrs. Hudson as she asked Angelo to dance with her. Lestrade good-naturedly offered his hand to Mrs. Burns, who cheerfully accepted, and Julie stood off to the side and hated her life.

Jim and Sherlock clasped hands and spun around, joining the mix and laughing. Sebastian and John looked uncomfortably at each other, until Sebastian held out his hand awkwardly. John took it (with a grain of salt,) and they started to move, appropriately for the fast-paced song. They chatted as theh did so.

"Whatcha think of all this?" Sebastian asked.

John laughed. "Well, it was definitely unforeseen, but I'm happy for them."

"Me, too." Sebastian said. "I'm just sad Jim's moving out. Obviously he and Sherlock'll want to live together."

"I hadn't even thought of that." John realized. "I'll have to find another flat and flatmate, no way'll Sherlock give up 221B, and it'd be awkward if I stayed."

"Want to come stay with me?" Sebastian suggested. "We both need flatmates and my and Jim's flat is pretty adequate. Together we should be able to afford it. Mrs. Burns gives us a discount."

John looked at him. Then he shrugged, (Don't ask me how he managed it while dancing, just go along with it!,) and said, "Yeah, alright, sure. Sounds like a plan."

"Great!" Sebastian gave him a winning smile and they continued to dance.

When the song was over and the next one (a slow one this time) begun, Lestrade headed over to have that interrogation with Sherlock. He had stuck out the wedding enough, he thought, now it was time to get some answers. He was slightly angry about this, because he didn't like his best detective marrying an obviously guilty major criminal.

He was stopped by an umbrella blocking his path. "Allow them their dance." Said the umbrella's owner. "They deserve to have today free from petty arguments."

Lestrade looked at the man, annoyed. "Who are you?"

Mycroft gazed at him distastefully. "I'm the brother of the groom." He said. "If you have questions, ask me. Don't disturb Moriarty and my little brother."

Lestrade looked over to where the couple were still dancing, Jim resting his head on Sherlock's shoulder, and decided that it was kind of sweet, and perhaps even Sherlock was capable of love.

But he still wanted answers. "You can tell me?" He asked Mycroft.

Sherlock looked up and saw Mycroft nod, and smiled to himself. His brother approved. Strictly speaking, he shouldn't care at all, but the knowledge that Mycroft put aside the rivalry for today made him glow inside. He rested his chin over Jim's head and closed his eyes, content to sway to the music for the time being.

Jim smiled against his husband's shoulder. This had gone even better than he hoped for, and he was content as well to be loved by the man he had admired for far longer than he would admit. It might have been an unforeseen wedding, but it was certainly a match made in heaven. They even sent him one of their own. Because Sherlock may deny it, but to Jim, he was certainly one of the angels.


End file.
